


Choices

by chillafterdark



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillafterdark/pseuds/chillafterdark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning for infidelity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

Every time, he’s already told himself it won’t happen. Because it won’t. That’s not who he is, and worse, he knows that’s not who Will is.

This was never the plan. But when he’s here — mouth so hungry under Will’s, body feeling taut strung and so alive over Will’s body, limbs tangled and surging into and against this incredible heat, this friction of always wanting more than they can get — he’s not thinking that it’s wrong. Because it doesn’t feel wrong.

“We shouldn’t-” He breaks away from Will, gasping, trying to offer some token protest, 

“Please don’t.” Will has his hand, trembling but somehow so confident, cupping Chris’ cheek and bringing their mouths together with a bite and a moan. 

So he doesn’t. 

Chris groans then, lets the way Will directs his jaw and mouth into their kisses spiral into him. He rolls onto his side and can’t help but press his whole body against Will’s while he flips open the pliant leather of Chris’ belt with too quick hands. Every time they do this he feels how starved he is, draws to Will like any space between them is too much to bear. 

He’s sucking hard kisses at Will’s neck when he turns too, facing him, lifting and using his hands to shove his own pants down before helping Chris to shimmy out of his. They have time, they have the promise of hours together if they wanted, but they never manage to draw it out. Maybe it’s because they need that rush to ride this wave until it crests helplessly between them. Or perhaps it’s because they just can’t let themselves linger too long before that second, that most honest moment when they come, when they can’t lie to themselves or anyone else. 

“Do you-” Will gasps, hands hungry and pushing Chris’ shirt up so he can bend to kiss down in a straight line from sternum to just above his pubic bone where he stops just to breathe. 

“Lube?” Chris offers, then turns slightly toward the night table. 

“No,” His hip under Will’s palm is too hot, “Never mind, I just want-” And then his mouth is on Chris’s dick. There’s no warm up, nothing preliminary, just the incredible wet warmth of Will’s mouth taking him in. 

“Ohmygod,” He arches and gasps and drives himself a little deeper; knows how much Will can take. 

Will pulls off for a moment, replaces his lips with a sure hand and a steady stroke; he’s the most generous and thoughtful lover Chris has ever had, gives him relentless pleasure like it’s his mission.

“You love this so much don’t you?” Will teases. Chris whimpers and it’s not just the way Will’s thumb knows just how to work the head of his cock; it’s not just that he knows the speed and grip that will work him up surely but not too quickly. It’s the smile he can hear in Will’s voice, the tiny lilt and the hint of South; these things that unpeel and expose the aching center of so many feelings he can’t even let himself have in any other waking moment of his day. 

“You know I do,” he manages, carding his fingers gently through Will’s hair. 

“You smell so good.” Will’s nose, somehow, is a little cold just at the tip; Chris can feel it when he runs it along the crease of his thigh. He’s lax open and unashamed when with Will. Willing and ready for whatever he might want from Chris. Will nips just a little, teeth that elicit a cascade of shivering pleasure from the apex of his thigh into the too hot spooling in his belly. 

“I don’t know if I should tell you to hurry up or slow down.” Chris admits. 

Will doesn’t answer because they don’t talk about this. Instead he works Chris relentlessly, mouth and tongue and hand driving, driving and driving Chris to a precipice so big, too big and too intimate and more than his body can handle. He splits open for Will, crying too loud with hands fisting tight into Will’s hair and unable to keep himself steady or together or anything other than raw. 

He lets Will hold him then, wrap him tight while he comes down, gasping boneless, one tear just at the corner of his eye. Sex is sometimes too much for Chris, too close and what he needs too wide for his body. 

But Will knows that. Knows just how tightly he needs to be bound and carried through until he’s ready, until he’s pulled himself together enough to wrap a hand around Will’s gorgeous cock, to draw and smooth and pump him through. And Will is always at his desperately most beautiful. It’s too dark tonight for him to really see, but his fingers and heart know it all. Will throbs and shudders into his touch, gasps his name over and over into the damp hollow of his neck. Kisses and bites and sucks gently while he fucks himself with increasingly erratic jerks until his body bows hard and unmoving, letting himself be pumped through orgasm. 

They kiss for so long after, inhabit the almost perfect after. Chris’ whole body feels aglow, like the shape and strength of how much he loves this man could light the room and his home. He imagines it spilling from the windows and seeping through the walls and bathing everything in it. 

But that’s just a small dream, and though right now they let themselves truly feel, lips and murmurs and fingers tracing each other’s bodies, they both know it won’t last. 

Chris doesn’t offer anything more, even when the moment begins to wane and thin. 

“Samuel-” Will’s voice is so faint against the dark. Chris closes his eyes, still sweat glistening, heart thunder heavy in his chest. 

“I promise this time.” Chris tries. 

“I know.” The acknowledgement is dull. “Not again.” 

They both know it’s not up to Chris alone; they bear the weight of complicity together. Chris understands that that stone in their hands molds different shapes in each of their palms. 

He dresses too quickly after, still trembling down from the intensity they bring to each other, and knows. Chris knows how this will go. The promises and the way they fight so hard against the desperate sway of their bodies, the gravity between their selves that they can’t help. 

Chris wants to keep his promises, because what they do hurts everyone, not just Samuel who doesn’t know. It’s the what if that cuts the deepest for Chris. It’s the longing that ignites the marrow of his bones, longing for what might be if they just had the courage to make change. 

Choosing each other in this world will never be light or casual. It couldn’t be. Choosing Will means commitment, it means cracking open the most private parts of his life for public consumption because if Will was his, Chris would never want to keep him a secret. 

But what that might mean, what it would mean, and how it might change everything between them and hurt Will is not anything Chris is ready to risk.


End file.
